


Ruin

by superwhowolflocked



Series: Inspired by Music [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 10:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwhowolflocked/pseuds/superwhowolflocked
Summary: When Derek leaves, Stiles feels abandoned and spirals into the dark nothingness of depression. Realizing he no longer knows who he is without the other man, Stiles does his best to pull himself out of the darkness and redefine himself. He succeeds. That is, until he comes home to find Derek standing awkwardly in his kitchen two years later. How will Derek fit into this new life Stiles has built for himself? Stiles isn't sure, but the one thing heissure of; he willneverrisk losing himself again.





	1. Act Like You Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter of this fic is based on and named after a Shawn Mendes song. If you know them, you will recognize some of the lyrics within the dialogue. While this was inspired by music, it _is not_ a song fic. 
> 
> Big thanks to thedoctorsnextcompanion13 for beta reading this for me!
> 
> As always, I have no claim to these characters

Stiles watched in silence as Derek meticulously packed his drawers into a large duffel bag; shirts on the left, pants on the right, socks and underwear in the side pockets, and sleep clothes in the front pocket. He was trying to be strong, to keep his composure, but with each emptied drawer, his resolve crumbled.

“What time are you leaving?” he asked when he could no longer stand the silence and the tension that came along with it.

“In the early morning, before sunrise,” Derek replied.

“How long are you going to be gone?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Are you planning on coming back?” 

Derek paused before answering, and another knot formed in Stiles’ stomach. “I don’t know…” he said again.

“Take me with you.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Then what does this mean for us?” Stiles saw Derek tense and that was answer enough for him. He felt the hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks, but paid them no attention.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Derek whispered, “I have to go. I have to find Cora and the others.”

“But why does that mean we have to come to an end?” 

“You know why.” 

“I really don’t.”

“Because I don’t want you to put your life on pause for me.” Derek looked broken as the words left his mouth, but he didn’t mean them any less. “I could be gone for a couple months, or I could be gone for years, I don’t know… And I can’t leave you here waiting for me.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He didn’t scream at the top of his lungs that he would always be waiting for Derek to return. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Instead he asked, “Will you at least stay until morning? Let me make you breakfast? I’ll make you all your favorites, give you a proper sendoff, and that way you’re not starting your trip on an empty stomach.” Derek looked at him with a pained expression, and once again Stiles had his answer. “Fine. Then can you give me tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“As soon as you’re done packing, that’s it. No more talk of you leaving. For the rest of the night we will go on like it’s a normal night.” Stiles’ tears were coming quicker now, streaking his cheeks and soaking the collar of his shirt.

“Stiles…” Derek started cautiously. 

“ _Please_ …” Stiles sobbed. “Derek, I need this. I need one final night. Whether it’s wrong or it’s right, I don’t care. I’m… I’m trying to make sense of this.”

“How is pretending I’m not leaving going to help you make sense of anything?”

“I don’t know, Derek. I Just need this, okay? Please? _Please_ will you give me this?” After several moments, Stiles sobs waned, leaving him a sniffing mess. Derek was staring at him. He wanted to reach out to him, to wrap the smaller man in his arms, to hold him tight and never let go, but he wasn’t sure it would help. He doubted his touch would be comforting. When Stiles finally met his eyes again, Derek agreed to his request with a curt nod and he saw some of the tension release from Stiles’ shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed. Swiftly, he wiped the remaining tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his flannel. “I’m going to make supper,” he said abruptly. Without another look, he turned and left the room.

Neither one of them said much for the rest of the night. They ate in silence save for Derek commenting on how good it was and Stiles replying with an all too polite, “Thank you.” When they were done eating, they watched the latest episode of _Riverdale_. Stiles curled into Derek’s side and Derek rested his arm over Stiles’ shoulder. The whole interaction felt forced but they didn’t acknowledge it.

The episode finished and Stiles stood, took Derek by the hand, and led him to the bedroom. He closed the door behind them and stepped up to Derek, placing his hands lightly on his chest.

“Act like you love me…” he said in a hushed tone, not meeting Derek’s eyes.

Derek’s heart shattered. Gently, he guided Stiles’ gaze up. He could see the tears there, threatening to spill over and paint his cheeks once again. “I don’t have to act, Stiles, I’ll always love you,” he promised and he fully intended to prove it.

Without another word, he leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Stiles didn’t immediately respond, but after a moment, he melted into it and kissed Derek back, in earnest, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and his legs around his waist. Derek easily supported his weight and carried him to the bed. He turned their bodies and sat on the bed so Stiles was straddling him. Pushing his shirt out of the way, Derek began running his hands along Stiles’ sides and down the expanse of his back, causing the smaller man to moan into his mouth and his increased passion reflected in their kiss.

Needing better access, Derek pulled Stiles’ shirt over his head and caused them to separate. Stiles was breathing heavily and a light pink flush covered his chest. Derek wanted to cover him from head to toe in soft kisses and bite marks, and he had every intention of doing just that. Effortlessly, he flipped them so Stiles was now laying on his back in the center of the bed with Derek propped over him. With the slightest turn of his head, Stiles bared his throat to him. Derek’s eyes flashed a bright blue before he latched his mouth onto the pale skin, biting and sucking until the man beneath him was thoroughly marked. 

Methodically, Derek worked his way down Stiles’ torso, leaving a string of bite marks around his collar bone, down his chest, and across his stomach. When he finally reached his hips, he started sucking again, leaving behind another mark to match the one on his neck. He hooked his thumbs in the band of Stiles’ pants, and Stiles instinctively lifted his ass so Derek could more easily remove them. Derek pulled the tight red fabric over his ass, passed his thighs, down his calves, and discarded them across the room. 

Derek resumed his attack on Stiles, placing a feather light kiss to the inside of his ankle, applying more and more pressure as he moved his way up his calf and to his thigh, where he proceeded to lick and nip at the muscled flesh. Stiles moaned above him. Derek could tell he was enjoying the attention by the large wet spot staining his now tented boxers. 

“Derek, please…” Stiles whined. 

He understood what Stiles wanted, but Derek had other plans. Quickly, he stripped him of his boxers and climbed between his legs. Taking Stiles’ legs in hand, Derek spread them and placed them on his shoulders. He tenderly palmed at his plump ass cheeks before spreading them and licking a firm stripe across his rim. Stiles gasped at the sensation and tightly gripped the sheets. 

Derek took his time with him, working him open with his tongue until Stiles was holding his legs apart to give him better access and gasping for breath. Only then did Derek insert the first finger. Stiles was a shaking mess by the time Derek added a second finger, and he was panting Derek’s name like it was a blessing and a curse when he added a third. A small pool of precum had leaked from his aching cock and gathered on his stomach. Derek had a strong urge to lick it up, but he had a better use for it.

“I – I can’t. _Please_ Derek. I’m go-going to lose m-my mind. More. I need more!” Stiles begged after another few minutes of painstakingly slow scissoring. 

Conceding, Derek gradually pulled his spit slick fingers from Stiles’ more than prepped hole, making Stiles groan at the friction. Using his finger to scoop up some of the cum that had pooled on Stiles’ stomach, slicked his cock with it and lined himself up with Stiles’ hole. 

Despite the number of times Derek had ravaged his ass, and the excessive prepping he had just received, Stiles was still ridiculously tight. Inch by inch, Derek pressed further into his heat until he finally bottomed out. He took a moment to admire how perfectly they fit together and how effortless it all felt, only moving again once Stiles started pressing up against him.

Derek set a steady rhythm of long deliberate thrusts, trying to pour every emotion he was feeling and everything he couldn’t say into them. _I love you. There is no one else in this universe who could ever make me feel this way or could remotely compare to you. I love you. I wish I could take you with me. I love you. I’ll miss you. I love you. I’m sorry. **I love you**._

It had been a long time since Stiles and Derek had been this intimate, taking their time and really absorbing every detail of each other. Stiles could feel every inch of Derek’s cock as he thrust in and out of him and it was driving him crazy, keeping him teetering just on the edge of madness and ecstasy. 

Derek could tell Stiles was close. His breathing was shallow and his low moans of pleasure were progressively increasing in volume and pitch. He laced their fingers together, pinned his hands above his head and captured his lips with his own. As they breathed each other’s air, Derek quickened his pace. The new angle had him striking Stiles’ prostate and after a few more thrusts his orgasm hit him and he exploded on his and Derek’s abdomens and chests. Derek, now completely enveloped by the scent of Stiles, started snapping his hips at incredible speeds until he felt his own climax overcome him and he was painting his lover’s insides with his cum.

Stiles was far too blissed out to move once Derek finally pulled out of him, so he just laid starfished on the bed, and tried to regain his composure as his body still pulsed from the aftershocks of his orgasm. It didn’t even phase him when Derek started collecting the cum from his ass and mixing it with the strips covering his torso. As soon as he was satisfied that their scents were perfectly mingled, Derek pressed their chests together and kissed Stiles’ lovingly on the forehead.

Stiles laughed quietly to himself, and if it was a little bitter, well that couldn’t be helped.

Confusion struck Derek at the sudden spike in Stiles’ scent. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” 

“What?”

“You’re breaking up with me and leaving. You tell me that you don’t want me to wait for you. But, we just made love… not sex or fucking or whatever else… but actually _made love_ for the first time in… what? A Year? You left marks all over my skin that likely won’t fade for weeks, and you scent marked me so well, werewolves will be able to smell you on me for the next year. You literally just claimed me as yours, hours before you're leaving for who knows how long.” 

Derek tensed. He knew Stiles was right. That’s exactly what he had done, but those weren’t his intentions. Honestly, he didn’t know what his intentions had been, he had just done what felt right to his wolf. 

Stiles laughed again, and this time it sounded genuine. “Calm down, Der. I’m not mad. I _am_ yours, and no amount of time or distance is going to change that. If it’s what you want, though, I’ll try to let you go, but I want you to know… you are the only guy for me. After tonight, I’ll never be with another man again. You’ve ruined me for the gender.”

“Yeah… me too,” Derek agreed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

“Now, you better get your wolfy ass up and clean this mess off my chest before it dries there,” Stiles ordered, trying to lighten the mood. 

Derek snorted, but did as he was told, climbing off the bed to fetch a warm rag from the bathroom. He returned and with great care, cleaned every drop of cum from his lover’s skin and disposed of the rag before crawling back into bed with him. Stiles curled into his side and grabbed his hand. They both laid there in the quiet of the room, Stiles tracing the lines of Derek’s hand with is finger tips.

“I’m going to miss this,” he admitted with a sigh, stilling his fingers and looking up at Derek. He didn’t respond but placed a lingering kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “Promise me something?” Stiles asked from his spot on Derek’s chest.

“Hmm?”

“You’ll wait until I’m asleep before you leave?” 

“If that’s what you want,” Derek hesitantly agreed. 

“I won’t be able to make myself say goodbye,” Stiles barely whispered, but he knew Derek heard him by the way he tightened his hold on him.

After a while, Derek thought Stiles might have fallen asleep. Not quite ready to leave, he hugged him close and buried his nose in his hair. That’s when he noticed the faint scent of salt in the air followed by the feeling of tears falling on his chest. 

“I love you,” Stiles wept. 

“I love you, too,” Derek affirmed.

Stiles, knowing this was the end, was no longer able to fight back his tears. Derek sat up on the bed and pulled him with him. Stiles, without refrain, wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and sobbed into his shoulder until all his tears were shed. Still, he stayed like that, held tightly in the arms of the man he loved, accepting his comfort.

He isn’t sure when, but at some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes next, he found himself in an otherwise empty bed. He felt the spot next to him and it had already grown cold. Derek was gone and Stiles was alone. He had only ever felt this alone once in his entire life, while he waited for his father to arrive at the hospital after his mother passed. 

The first sob racked through him like a tsunami, completely flooding his entire body. It was quickly followed by another and another, and within minutes, his entire pillow was soaked with his tears, but he couldn’t care less. He buried his face deep in the cotton and wailed until his voice was hoarse. Eventually, he managed to calm himself down, but a steady stream of tears still flowed down his cheeks. 

Stiles looked at his phone and saw it was just passed five. He considered going to make himself something to eat, but that required getting out of bed, and he wasn’t sure he was up to that task. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. Much to his stomach’s protests, Stiles laid back down and pulled the blankets over his head. Maybe, if he went back to sleep, when he woke again he would find this was all just a bad dream… If only.


	2. In My Blood

The cold tile of the bathroom floor pressed into his back as Stiles laid there, feeling just as numb as the day Derek left. It had been six months since their last night together, but the overwhelming sense of loss and the insecurities and constant panic attacks it brought with it had only increased in intensity and occurrence. In fact, he was pretty sure the beginnings of yet another panic attack was slowly encroaching on him.

Why had he listened to Scott?

His best friend, meaning well, had been trying to get him out of the loft for months. So, one Saturday, after the tears had stopped and the numbness set in, he agreed to let Scott take him out. Of course, that meant they ended up at a bar with Scott pouring drink after drink down his throat. He was on his seventh… eighth? shot of the night when Scott pointed out a woman who was trying to get his attention. 

The sober voice in his head was telling him that pursuing this woman was a bad idea, but the alcohol coursing through his veins was at the wheel. She relentlessly flirted with him the entire night, and if Stiles had been in his right mind, he probably would have found it off putting, but in his desperation to feel something, _anything_ , he flirted back. He even asked her back to his place, but by the time they arrived, the alcohol had started to wear off and the familiar emptiness creeped back up on him followed quickly by nausea, though Stiles didn’t think it was from the drinking. He ended up rushing inside and emptying the contents of his stomach in his sink. Apologizing to the woman for the trouble, he offered her money for a cab, but she refused and said it wasn’t a problem. Before she left, she turned back and Stiles flinched at the look in her eyes; understanding and pity. She assured him it would get easier with time and then walked through the door, leaving him alone once again.

So, here he was, laying on his bathroom floor waiting to see which was going to overtake him first, the nausea or the panic attack, and regretting ever listening to Scott.

Against his better judgment, Stiles grabbed his phone, typed in his pass code, _1107_ , and pulled up his messages. He had to scroll several times before he found Derek’s name. Hesitating, he wondered if he should close out of the app and go to bed, but he already started the venture down the rabbit hole. Even if he did close out now, there was no keeping Derek off his mind, so he tapped the bubble with his thumb.

_Sunday, 22 November, 2015_  
Sourwolf:  
I made it to Cora’s last known location.  
The man who runs the motel said she  
was headed east to meet up with  
some friends. I think she was trying  
to track down the Lenoir pack. I’m  
going to Louisiana next. 

_Tuesday, 15 December, 2015_  
Sourwolf:  
Found the Lenoir pack. Cora was  
here for about a week. Simone, their  
alpha, told me she had mentioned  
finding the O’Connell’s next. It looks  
like she is trying to rally all the major  
packs in the country. 

_Friday 25 December, 2015_  
Sourwolf:  
Merry Christmas, Stiles. 

_Friday, 1 January, 2016_  
Sourwolf:  
Happy New Year 

_Saturday, 20 February, 2016_  
Sourwolf:  
I found Cora with the Kenner  
pack in Montana. So far, she has  
convinced seven major packs to  
join our alliance. She also has the  
location of thirty-two hunter’s  
bases all over the country. They  
are kidnapping wolf pups and  
training them to hate and murder  
their own kind. We have to stop  
them, Stiles… 

_I’m sorry._

_Friday, 8 April, 2016_  
Sourwolf:  
Happy birthday 

He never once responded to Derek’s messages. He wanted to. He wanted to text him every single minute of the day. To tell him how much he missed him, that he still loved him, that these last six months had been unbearable… How proud of him he was… But he didn’t. He knew it would only make things worse for both of them. 

Stiles hadn’t heard from him since his birthday, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Sure, not having constant reminders of him should make moving on easier… but not hearing from him left him feeling utterly alone. Without warning, he realized just how lonely he truly was, the weight of it baring down on his chest, suffocating him, and bringing him ever closer to the impending panic attack. Not knowing what else to do, he texted the only person he could stand to be around for long periods of time, because she knew exactly what he was going through. 

_To Wonder Woman:_  
I hate this… Sometimes I feel  
like it would be easier to give up.  
I’m afraid to be alone right now.  
I don’t think it’s a good idea…  
Can you come over? 

_From Wonder Woman:  
I’ll be there in twenty minutes._

Stiles tossed his phone to the side and tried to keep his anxiety under control. _Regulate your breathing,_ he thought to himself. _Inhale for five seconds… One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thousand, five one-thousand. Hold it. Exhale for five seconds… One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four one-thousand, five one-thousand. Repeat. Close your eyes and focus on your senses. The feeling of the cold bathroom tile pressing into your back with each breath. The sound of the running washer down the hall. The smell of your lavender mint shampoo. Think of your happy place._

“I love you, Stiles,” an all too familiar voice avowed as blue-green eyes, expressive eyebrows, a bright white smile with adorable bunny teeth, and a black beard with hair to match flashed in his mind. He heard the rumbling of a deep, genuine, belly laugh, and could feel calloused hands running over his neck and sides. The smell of leather, the forest, and sandalwood beard oil filled the room around him. 

“… _iles_!” He was brought back to the harsh reality of the world when he heard Lydia calling his name somewhere in the distance. “Seriously, Stiles, get up!” Lydia nudged his leg with her foot. “I’m not laying on the bathroom floor with you, so it’s time you join me back in the real world.” With a groan, Stiles picked himself up off the floor. “Oh sweetie…” Lydia uttered, pulling Stiles close and wiping away the stray tears from his cheeks, (he hadn’t even realized he’d been crying). Lydia was instantly struck with the smell of booze. “Goodness gracious… How much did you drink?”

“I don’t know…” Stiles mumbled. “I lost track after Scott handed me the eighth? shot.” 

“I'm going to kill him,” Lydia fumed. “Alpha or not, he’s dead. Stupid werewolf.” Stiles swayed on his feet, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or lack of sleep and food. “When was the last time you ate?” she fretted. “You look sickly. Like the nogitsune has possessed you again.”

Stiles shrugged. “… Six months ago? I haven’t been able to keep much down,” he confessed. 

Lydia sighed, but didn’t chastise him. When Jackson left, she had lived on a diet of one spoon of peanut butter a day for the better part of the summer. And while she had loved Jackson, their relationship was nowhere near as intense as Stiles’ and Derek’s had been. 

“Come on,” the redhead ordered, pulling Stiles out of the bathroom by his arm and shoving him toward the kitchen. “I brought a bunch of junk food, and by the looks of you, you could use the calories.” 

“I can’t, Lyds…” Stiles whined. 

“You can, and you will. This is why you texted me, and you know it. Now, move.” 

Stiles obeyed, not having the energy to argue. Lydia watched him as he ate, with concern in her eyes. _At least it isn’t pity_ he thought. Once he had finished off the wings and curly fries she had brought him, and half a pack of double stuffed Oreos, Lydia was satisfied enough with his food intake to start asking him questions. 

“What’s going on with you, Sweetie? And don’t tell me it’s because Derek left, because it’s more than that, and I know it.” 

Stiles grimaced. He hated how perceptive she could be. He stared down at his hands, racking his brain for the proper way to explain how he was feeling. 

“My dad thinks it would be a good idea for me to get put on some antidepressants,” he said instead, when no coherent explanation came to him.

Their conversation happened like rapid fire after that. Lydia knowing exactly how to steer him to get the information she wanted.

“What do you think?” 

“They won’t help.” 

“Why?”

“Because I’m not depressed.” 

“What are you?” 

“Broken.” 

“You're not broken, Stiles. What are you?” 

“Incomplete.”

“Why?” 

“Because he took half of me with him.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.” Lydia didn’t respond, just waited. “No,” Stiles admitted. 

She smiled softly at his honesty and repeated her first question, “What’s going on with you, Stiles?” 

“I don’t know how to be me without him,” he confessed. “I know I’m not a wolf, but it’s almost like I’ve lost my anchor. He was such a strong presence in my life for such a long time, even before we were dating… without him here, I don’t feel like myself. It’s like I’m crawling in my skin… I don’t know how to continue with out him supporting and encouraging me.” 

“So, what? You’ve just given up?”

“No, I can’t, can I?” 

“Of course, you can,” Lydia protested. “People give up all the time.”

“No, I can’t, Lydia.”

“Why not?” 

“Because!” Stiles shouted. “That’s not who I am. I’m not the type of person to just give up. That’s not the man my parents raised. Quitting isn’t in my blood.”

“Wow,” Lydia smirked. 

“What?” 

“That’s the first time you’ve sounded like yourself in six months.” Stiles scoffed, but he knew she was right. “So, if you're not giving up, what are you doing?” 

“… I’m not sure, but I don’t want to keep doing this. I _can’t_. It’s killing me, Lyds.” Stiles ran his fingers through his hair and down his face. “I want to move on… well, no I don’t…” he chuckled. “I guess, I want to learn who I am without him, but… I think I’m going to need some help.”

~*ooO0Ooo*~

It had been almost a year since Derek had left, and learning to live without him was difficult, but Stiles was getting there. He still had the occasional panic attack, but they didn’t come near as frequently as before, and there were still nights where he felt incredibly lonely cried himself to sleep, but he no longer consumed by it.

As he sat cross legged on his bed and stared down at the message typed out on his phone, debating whether or not to send it. Before he could second guess himself, he held his breath and hit the little blue arrow. He’d expected to be hit with a sudden sense of grief or loss, but instead… he felt normal. Like himself. Stiles smiled triumphantly. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

_Tuesday, 7 November, 2017_  
From Mischief:  
Happy birthday, Derek 


	3. Because I Had You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter to Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! I know I said noon, but life got in the way. I will be posting two chapters to make up for it! (and this one is really short, so i feel bad..)

_Derek, do you ever regret leaving? Because I regret letting you. I should have told you not to go, but I didn’t. I should have begged to go with you until you said yes. But, I didn’t. I should have followed you._ But, I didn’t _. Now, it’s too late. You’re gone, off somewhere halfway across the world, fighting a noble battle. And Derek, I am so very proud of you. You're every bit the man I fell in love with, and more. I just wish I were still the man you had fallen in love with. Still happy and full of hope._

 _I let your absence break me, Derek. I mean,_ truly _break me. I went months walking around as nothing more than a shell of my former self. But, you were my everything. You know that, right? You were_ everything _to me, and without you, I didn’t know how to function. There was a time where I believed we were going to make history together. Do you remember when I told you that? You laughed and asked if I meant like George and Martha, or Bonnie and Clyde, and then we spent the next three hours arguing about who would be Bonnie. God, Cora made fun of us for weeks after that. I miss those days… Does she still ask about me? I remember when the three of us felt like family…_

_But those days are gone, aren’t they?_

_It’s been two years since I woke up in this nightmare. Two years living without you. And it’s been agonizing. It took me a long time to learn who I was again. But with Scott’s and Lydia’s help, and my dad’s, of course, I got there. There are still some nights that are worse than others, but I haven’t cried myself to sleep in several months, so… progress._

_Speaking of progress, do you remember Malia? She and I have actually started getting kind of close. Not like I am with Scott or Lydia, but I like her. She asked me out, Derek. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was going to say yes or not because secretly, okay, not so secretly, I’ve been waiting for you to come home. I know you told me not to, but who are we trying to kid? I was always going to wait for you. But it’s been two years, Derek._ Two years! _and I’m tired of being alone. This is what you wanted, right? For me to move on and be happy with someone else? Well, I'm going to try. Because I deserve that, right? I deserve to have joy in my life? God, I really want that. Always being sad or numb is_ exhausting _._

 _So, I'm going to say yes. I know I’ll never love her, not fully, anyway. Because I had you, didn’t I. I did have you, didn’t I, Derek? You belonged to me just as I belonged to you? And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to love like that again. But maybe we could make each other happy. It’ll be nice to have someone to share things with again. She’s never seen_ Star Wars _or_ The Lord of the Rings _! I can take her to all my favorite places to eat, and I told her about that paintball spot. You know, the one that’s like the one from_ 10 Things I Hate About You _? She wants to go, so I said I would take her._

_Of course, I’ll never be able to share my favorite place with her. You know the spot. That clearing out in the preserve, where we went on our first date. And where we… There are some places just too special to share with anyone else._

_I don’t know, Derek… Maybe I’m making a huge mistake. Maybe this whole thing is going to end in a disaster. But, I’ll never know until I try. I_ have _to try, don’t I? Otherwise nothing is going to change and I’m just going to continue sitting here wallowing in my misery, and I really don’t want that._

_I guess, the whole point of this is… I had to tell you. Why? I’m not really sure. Closure, maybe? Or maybe in some twisted way, I need your permission. I need to know that you’re okay with me trying to move on. You are okay with it, right? I need to know that you’re not going to come home and hate me because I didn’t wait for you, even though you told me not to. I couldn’t handle it if you hated me, because I love you, Derek, and I’ll always love you. Even if we can’t be together, even if we are both living our lives with someone else, you will always have a piece of my heart. But’ it’s time for me to let go._

_So…_

_Good-bye Derek._

Stiles stared down at the completed letter. Carefully, he folded it into thirds, tucked it inside an unmarked envelope, and placed in the bottom drawer of his desk. The familiar sensation of not being able to breathe had overtaken him, but as he closed the drawer, the mass on his chest lifted until oxygen was once again able to fill his starving lungs. With each new breath, Stiles felt renewed, and for the first time in two years all the weight he’d been carrying around had finally melted away.


	4. Treat You Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek returns to Beacon Hills to find Stiles in a relationship with Malia.

It was a day like any other. A Tuesday. And like every Tuesday Stiles worked a short shift at the _Beacon Journal_ and met Malia for a late lunch before she had to go back to work and he went back to his house to clean up and make them supper. Today, though, he got out a little earlier than normal, so instead of meeting her at their usual diner, he decided to pick her up at her shop so they could walk to the diner together. He was a thoughtful boyfriend like that, or at least he liked to believe so. 

As he made his way two blocks over, Stiles couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him, the spark under his skin itched with every step. It wasn’t signifying that he was in immediate danger, though, so he decided to ignore it. It was probably just that overly flirty florist, anyway. She wasn’t shy with her lingering eyes, even when Malia was present. 

As expected, Malia was surprised when he arrived just as she was locking up.

“Stiles! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the diner?” Malia’s tone was slightly accusatory, but fond. 

“I got out early. Thought maybe it would be nice if we walked over together,” he shrugged with just a hint of a smile.

“You’re such a sap,” she teased, but she took his hand in hers anyway.

They made casual conversation as they began walking their five-block journey. It was… nice. Stiles enjoyed his time with Malia. Really, he did. But sometimes it all just seemed too easy. He missed feeling challenged. But, he tried to reason, they were still very much in the beginnings of their relationship. Maybe that would come later, when they were more comfortable with each other and weren’t trying to be on their best behavior.

Malia was talking about some overzealous customer she had dealt with when Stiles felt it again. His spark ignited and alerted him of someone’s presence, but the florist was several blocks in the other direction, it couldn’t possibly be her. Casually, he began looking over his shoulder, trying to spot the offender, but once again, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He tried to refocus his attention back on Malia’s story but the feeling persisted. More frantically, he looked in every direction, hoping to see someone, anyone even glancing his way, but still there was no one. 

“Stiles, are you alright?” Malia asked with slight concern, though her expression looked annoyed. 

“Yeah,” he replied, apologetically, “I just… I felt like… You know what, it was nothing. Continue.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, abso–” Just then, a car passed on the road in front of him and Stiles froze. He knew that car… intimately… its black sheen bringing back memories he had tried so hard to forget. He could practically smell the leather seats and feel the way they stuck to his flesh on those hot summer nights.

“Stiles!” Malia huffed, waving her hand in front of his face. “What is up with you today?” 

“I’m really sorry, Malia. I just remembered I have a deadline tomorrow. I completely spaced. Can I have a rain check on lunch?” Stiles lied, making sure to control his heart so she wouldn’t pick up on it.

Malia frowned, but she nodded. She clearly wasn’t pleased, but she wasn’t about to interfere with Stiles’ job. “Yeah, okay. Are we still on for supper tonight?”

“I uh… I don’t think so. I think this is going to take me most of the night to finish.” 

“Alright, fine,” she reluctantly agreed, “but you better make it up to me!” 

“I will, I promise.” With that, he kissed her on the cheek and headed back toward his Jeep. 

He couldn’t get home fast enough, and had the whole of the police station not known his Jeep by sight, he likely would have been pulled over, but being the son of the sheriff did come with it’s perks. In no time at all, he was pulling up to his building and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the Camaro occupying the same spot it always used to. _Old habits die hard_ he thought. 

Quickly, Stiles parked the jeep in his usual space and headed inside. The elevator was out of commission, so he took the stairs, jumping them two at a time. He reached the third floor and his hands began to shake with nervousness. Was he prepared for this reunion? He passed the fourth-floor landing; his anxiety had struck and he slowed his pace. Could he even handle seeing him again without breaking all over again? He eventually made it to the fifth floor and approached his door cautiously. Was he sure this was even real? Maybe he was getting himself worked up over nothing. 

With a steadying breath, he grasped the handle and slid the door open. His spark reacted immediately, buzzing with anticipation. Stiles’ eyes darted around the open room before they finally landed on the man standing awkwardly in his kitchen. 

“Derek,” he breathed.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

After two and a half years, Derek and Cora, along with the help of packs all across the nation had managed to take down dozens of major hunter operations and nearly wiped werewolf trafficking off the map. There were still rumors here and there about other bases, but for the most part, the hunters were on the run, and Derek was thankful, because he was _tired_. So, one night, after yet another false lead, he decided it was time for him to go home.

Cora didn’t need him there anymore; she had become a strong and accomplished pack leader of her own, despite only being a beta. Derek couldn’t have been prouder of her or more confident in her abilities. So, when he approached her and told her it was time for him to go home, she fully supported his decision.

Before he climbed into his car to leave, Cora pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said with sincerity.

“No, you're not,” Derek laughed as he returned her hug. 

Cora scoffed in offense. “Of course, I am. I’m not going to miss your moping and longing sighs, but I will miss you.” 

Derek rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn’t respond to her taunting. “Promise to call me once a week so I know you're safe.” 

“I promise.” 

“And text often.” 

“Yes, Dad.” 

“And if you need any back up at all,” Cora interrupted him before he could finish. 

“I’ll call. I know. Okay? Everything is going to be fine. Now go before you change your mind and I’m stuck with you for another two years.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Derek conceded, climbing into his car and starting the ignition. “I love you,” he said as he leaned out the open window.

“I love you, too. Oh, and Big Brother?” Derek raised a perfect Hale eyebrow at her. “Get him back. I don’t care what you have to do, just get him back.” 

Derek stared at his sister for a few moments before nodding in confirmation. Satisfied with his response she gave him one final wave and headed back to camp leaving Derek with nothing but his thoughts and the journey ahead of him. 

While the last two and a half years had easily been the longest of his life, the seventeen hours it took to drive from Colorado to Beacon Hills felt infinitely longer, the excitement of seeing Stiles again constantly on his mind. He wasn’t stupid enough to think things would go back to the way they were before he left. He was sure Stiles had moved on. But that didn’t matter. As long as he had him in his life, some way or another, he would be content. At least that was the lie he kept telling himself.

Derek didn’t know what to expect as he passed the welcome sign to his home town and entered the downtown area. This was Beacon Hills, after all, anything was possible. He certainly wasn’t expecting to instantly pick up on an all too familiar heartbeat and a scent so enthralling it literally drew him in. Deciding it was probably a good idea to park his car before he got into an accident trying to follow it, Derek pulled over in the nearest parking lot and began tracking it on foot. 

It didn’t take him long to find its source. Stiles was just leaving the local newspaper office when he spotted him. He wanted to approach him or call out his name to gain his attention, but he couldn’t. What if Stiles didn’t want to see him? He wouldn’t blame him in the slightest. Not with the way he just up and left. So, he stayed quiet and watched him from a distance. _Coward_ he thought to himself. 

He felt like he was going to be sick when he saw Stiles and Malia together and the way she so casually touched him made his wolf snarl in a jealous fit. He couldn’t do this, he concluded. Seeing Stiles with someone else was… it was making him lose control. He had to leave. So, he ran back to his car as fast as he could and headed to the only place he could think of. His loft.

Once again, he hadn’t expected to smell the intoxicating scent of Stiles the moment he pulled up to the building. He was even more surprised to find his loft fully furnished and very much lived in, though the knowledge that Stiles was living in _his_ loft had his wolf preening. 

The sound of the Jeep arriving pulled Derek from his thoughts. Stiles was here. _Shit!_ Stiles was here! Derek looked around, not sure what to do with himself. While the loft still belonged to him, this was clearly Stiles’ home, and Derek had just let himself in. He might not even be welcome. 

The closer Stiles got to the fifth floor, the more anxious Derek became. The younger man’s chemosignals were all over the place and it was setting Derek’s nerves on edge. He was half tempted to jump out the window and pretend like he had never been there when Stiles finally opened the door. 

The moment Stiles’ amber eyes landed on him and he whispered his name in that breathy tone, all of Derek’s worries vanished. Stiles was there, and nothing else mattered.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

“Hi, Stiles,” Derek responded with caution.

At the sound of his voice, Stiles suddenly felt like his whole world had been jumpstarted. Inhibitions forgotten, he ran across the room and threw himself into Derek’s arms, who effortlessly caught him. He hugged him close to his chest and inhaled deeply, just like he always used to. 

“This isn’t fair,” Stiles whispered, his face still buried in Derek’s shoulder. 

“What isn’t?” Derek questioned.

“You… being here… and looking perfect… and smelling like home… and just… all of it. I wasn’t supposed to be happy to see you. I was supposed to be mad, or indifferent, or something, but definitely not happy.” 

Derek laughed and held Stiles closer. “But you _are_ happy to see me?” he asked, only mildly uncertain.

“Unquestioningly ecstatic,” Stiles confirmed. 

After several minutes of the two of them standing in Stiles’ kitchen, just holding each other, something dawned on Stiles. He shouldn’t be doing this. He had a girlfriend. A girlfriend, who was actually a pretty great person, and who he enjoyed spending time with. 

Awkwardly, Stiles pulled away from Derek and took a couple steps back, giving himself some much needed space. 

“Uh… sorry about that…” he apologized. “That was really… I just… I was so shocked to see you. I saw the Camaro… hoped it was you, but that didn’t prepare me for… you,” Stiles rambled as he gestured wildly around the room and at Derek. He ran his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, an in anxious habit, before shaking his head and laughing at himself. “Sorry, I'm just… I'm a mess,” he mused, “but you! Look at you! You’re almost exactly the same, and you’re here! In Beacon Hills! When did that happen?” 

“What time did you get off work?” 

“Umm… 2:30?”

“So, I’ve been in town since about 2:28.”

“Oh… OH! _Oh my god!_ You were watching me, weren’t you?! I’m such an idiot. I knew I was being watched when my spark signaled, but I thought it was just a coincidence when I saw your Camaro shortly after . But _no!_ No! You were just being a creeper wolf,” Stiles accused. 

Derek didn’t deny it. “You weren’t the only one caught off guard today,” he admitted. “When I arrived, my senses reflexively went into hyperdrive, and the first thing I picked up on was your erratic heartbeat, quickly followed by your scent. After that, my instincts kicked in, I _had_ to find you, not that I wasn’t planning on it already. When I did, I lost my nerve and before I could approach you, you met up with…” 

“You saw me with Malia,” Stiles whispered. 

Derek nodded. “I didn’t want to interrupt, so I came here. I wasn’t expecting to find you living here.” Stiles didn’t respond. He had a wild look in his eyes, like he was internally panicking about something. Derek was sure he knew, but he wasn’t going to press it. “Why are you?” 

“Huh,” Stiles snapped out of hist thoughts. “What, now?” 

“Why are you living here?” 

“Funny story, that. So, you own the building.” 

“I’m aware,.” Derek deadpanned. 

“And you had all the bills set up to automatically come out of your account.”

“Because you wouldn’t stop pestering me about it.” 

“You missed seventeen payments in a matter of two months, Derek. It was necessary. I know you’re ridiculously wealthy, but there is no need for you to waste your money on late-fees. And with all the supernatural shit that happens here… Oh my god. Do you see what you do to me! You drive me insane! You haven’t been back for more than an hour and you already have me ranting!” Stiles huffed. Derek’s heart swelled with affection. He had missed this more than he realized. “Anyway! My point! You never canceled your autopayments. I tried calling the companies for you, but they wouldn’t let me cancel them without your password.” 

“Mischief,” Derek said.

“What?” Stiles gaped at him. 

“My password. It’s Mischief.” 

“Whyat didn’t I guess that?! I tried our anniversary, my birthday, Cora’s birthday, and about twelve others. But I never thought of my name…” 

“Why didn’t you just text and ask, or tell me that I forgot to cancel them?” 

Stiles audibly swallowed but didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, though. The air was thick with grief. So much so, Derek was nearly choking on it. He hated that he was the cause of Stiles’ pain. 

Stiles continued as if Derek hadn’t spoken. “So, when I couldn’t get the electric, water, and internet shut off, I figured, why let it them go to waste. Plus, I’m a poour journalist who was doomed to live with my father until I: married rich, found a roommate or died. Since my plan with the former failed;,” Derek flinched, he knew Stiles was making a joke, but it stung regardless, “everyone I knew was in a relationship, and living with my dad, after he and Melissa were married, was nauseating, I ended up here.” 

Stiles’ heart fluttered, signaling he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but again, Derek didn’t press,. He wantinged to keep the conversation light. He knew if they were going to have any sort of relationship, they were going to have to address the things Stiles was hiding, but they could save that for another time.

“I _believe_ , what you are telling me is, you have been living here rent free, for two and a half years, like a giant mooch.” 

Stiles burst out laughing. “No, you ass.” He turned to leave the room, but looked back over his shoulder before saying, “I’ll be right back. Stay… stay there, okay? Sit down at the bar or something. Just don’t… don’t disappear.” Derek forced himself to nod, almost too struck by the desperation in his voice to respond at all. Stiles ascended the spiral staircase and returned several minutes later carrying a large, thick, manila envelope. “Here,” he said, shoving it into Derek’s hands. “It isn’t near as much as this place is worth, but it’s what I could afford.”

Derek opened the envelope and immediately slammed it shut. “Jesus, Stiles!” he exclaimed, wide eyed. 

“How much is in here?”

“Around twenty-four thousand,” he mumbled, not meeting Derek’s eye.

“Stiles! I…” Derek stopped, his eyebrows knitted together in frustration.

“‘You,’ what?” 

“I’m trying to pick my battle here. I don’t know if I should be mad that you kept this kind of cash in the loft, which is _dangerous_ or that you actually think I would take it.” 

“Well, this whole place is warded, so let’s go with the latter.” 

“Fine. I’m not taking this,” Derek huffed, pushing the money across the bar towards Stiles. 

“Yes, you are.” 

“No, Stiles, I’m not. I don’t want your money.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t need it? Because I never would have charged you to live here? Because you’re my…” 

“You’re… boyfriend? Because I’m not, Derek. Remember? You broke up with me.” 

“I know.” 

“You left.” 

“ _I know_.” 

“For two and a half years.” 

“ _ **I know!**_ Okay?!” Derek shouted. His expression crumbled and he looked like he was in agony. “ _I know_ ,” he whispered this time.

Stiles sighed and picked up the envelope. “I’m not keeping this,” he emphasized, “but there isn’t much you can do with it right now, and I feel more comfortable having it locked in a spell bound safe.” 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Derek agreed. 

That particular conversation had clearly reached its end, leaving them standing in heavy silence. Stiles, unable to bare it, blurted out the first thing that popped in his head.

“So, where are you staying?” 

“Uh… I was originally planning…”

“You were planning on staying here, right?” Stiles interrupted. “Until you discovered I was living here.” 

“Yeah,” Derek confirmed. 

“And now you’re going to try and get a hotel room or crash with someone from the pack?” Stiles asked, but it didn’t sound like a question. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Don’t bother.” 

“What?” Derek snapped his gaze up to Stiles, who was now standing stiffly in the middle of the living room.

“This is your place, Derek. I may live here, but it’s still _yours_.” 

“So, what? You’re going to leave?” 

Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. “No, dummy. I’m going to sleep in my room, and you’re going to sleep in yours.” 

“Mine?” Derek questioned, clearly confused. 

“Come on,” Stiles motioned for Derek to follow him as he climbed the stairs.

“W-what is this?” Derek asked in disbelief when Stiles showed him to the room at the end of the hall.

“Your bed and stuff were all still downstairs when you left, and when I moved in, I didn’t want to get rid of it, so I moved it all in here. 

“But everything is made up, and…” Derek sniffed the air, “it doesn’t smell like the room has been sitting empty for two years.” 

Stiles blushed and shifted on his feet. “I, uh… I figured you were going to want to live here if… _when_ you came back, and I know how sensitive your wolfy nose is… I didn’t want it to smell stale or be covered in dust.” 

“…You cleaned my room for me?” Derek marveled. 

“Only from time to time, you know, when I was cleaning everything else. Why waste a dust rag?”

“Since when do you dust?” 

“Since I needed something to fill my time and started getting into the habit of it?”

“The bedspread smells freshly washed?” 

“Oh, yeah, I had some clothes that I needed cleaned, but didn’t have a full load…” 

“So, you washed it?” 

“Ye _p_.” Stiles responded, popping the “p” with emphasis.

“I don’t deserve you,” Derek proclaimed.

“You don’t have me,” Stiles replied. 

“I never deserved you,” Derek rephrased.

“Well, that’s one for the jury, isn’t it, Big Guy? But, enough of that! I need to get started on supper. Why don’t you get settled back in; get unpacked, maybe take your first real shower since who knows when, and then come help me? We have a lot to catch up on.” 

Derek couldn’t believe how effortless the rest of the night felt. After he showered (because Stiles was right, he hadn’t had an actual shower in months), he joined him in the kitchen and helped him finish cutting the vegetables for chicken stir fry. They ate and talked. Stiles, immediately took charge of the conversation, asking question after question about taking down the hunter’s operations, how Cora was doing, and what the other packs were like. They both laughed a lot, and Stiles got aggravated at how reckless they had been, but Derek could tell it was because he was concerned for their safety. He noted how he would have done things differently, had he been there or been consulted. Derek didn’t miss the jab, but it didn’t feel malicious. It was lighthearted and maybe a little playful, if not a tad bit sad. He was amazed at the inner workings of the other packs, and couldn’t believe how strict it all seemed. Scott’s pack had always felt more like a family;, Scott always coming to his betas for advice and frequently bowing to their ideas, especially Stiles’. And, of course, he wasn’t surprised to hear that Cora was a natural born leader. 

“That’s my girl!” he mused, hearing about how she tore apart two betas from different packs and had effectively put them in their place before things got out of hand and their behavior , and how she And threatened to end the alliances she’d worked so hard to form. 

“Your turn,” Derek declared, folding his arms on the table and leaning in a little. 

“What do you mean?” Stiles avoided, grabbing their plates and disposing of them in the sink. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been steering the conversation.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he blatantly lied. Derek quirked his eyebrow and Stiles sighed. “Fine. I do know what you’re talking about. But things have been going so smoothly, and I don’t want to make them awkward… or depressing.” 

“So, let’s start with something easy. Tell me about you job.” 

“Well, I work at the local paper; editing and layout, mostly. But I write articles here and there.” 

“What made you decide to switch your career path from FBI to journalism?” 

Stiles sat down on the couch and crossed his legs as he thought about it. “My dad, mostly, and the pack. Being in the FBI meant I was going to be gone a lot, and I wanted to make sure I was here for them,” he confessed. “Also, working for the paper gives me an excuse to be at crime scenes and askinging questions and whatnot, specifically those related to the supernatural. It allows me to make sure the information isn’t twisted to make the pack seem look at fault, or the police department look incompetent. Even though the supernatural world was revealed years agohas been known for years, and we have all proven ourselves time in and time out, people still tend to be mistrusting.” Derek grunted in understanding. 

“So, are you only part time, then?”

“What?” Stiles slightly cocked his head to the right.

“You were off in the middle of the day.” 

“Oh, no. I usually put in a lot of extra hours throughout the week. So, on Tuesdays, I take a half day and meet…” Stiles stopped abruptly and his pulse rapidly increased.

“Calm down, Stiles, it’s okay. I know you have a girlfriend. I saw you two together, remember?earlier.” 

“Yeah… I figured, but I hoped maybe you hadn’t.I tried to forget… This is what I meant by making things awkward…” 

“It’s only awkward if you want it to be. I told you not to wait for me, I would have been more surprised if you _weren’t_ dating someone.” 

“That may be the case, but that doesn’t mean you necessarily want to hear about it.” 

“Really, Stiles, I’m fine. I’m not mad, or offended… Maybe a little jealous.” If Stiles’ heart hadn’t already been working double time, that confession would have done it. “But you have nothing to feel guilty or anxious about.” 

“Right…” Stiles drawled.

“So, Malia?” 

“Um… Yeah… Derek, really, we don’t have to do this.” 

“It’s going to happen sometime, right? If you’re dating her, and I’m living here, we are probably going to run into each other. So, why pretend like she doesn’t exist?” Derek persisted. 

“I guess you’re right… Fine,” Stiles conceded with a huff of dissatisfaction. “We’ve been dating for about four months, now. Honestly, it all started because everyone else in the pack was hooking up and we were the odd members out, so we started hanging out. One thing led to another, she asked me out, and after about the fifth time of finding an excuse for why I shouldn’t, I decided, ‘Fuck it,’ and gave it a shot. We’ve been dating ever since.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” Derek chuckled over the rim of his glass before taking a drink.

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking for a relationship, I just sort of fell into one. So, romance was the last thing on my mind.”

“Even though you were’n’t looking for one, are you at least happy in your relationship?” Derek inquired.

“Um… Yeah. I think so…” Stiles uncertainly responded. 

“Don’t sound so sure…” Derek quipped.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that, we are taking thingks slow, so… I don’t know… nothing is super serious, yet. But, I have a lot of fun with her and we get along really well. I guess, we just haven’t really ventured into the thick of our relationship, yet. Everything is still so new and… cupcake-y,” Stiles tried to explain. 

“‘Cupcake-y?’”

“Yeah, you know. Like when Scott and Allison first started dating. Or when Scott and Kira first started dating. Oh god… when Scott and _Isaac_ first started dating,” Stiles groaned at the vomit inducing _cute_ that was his best friend’s love life. “Really, any and all relationships Scott has been in, and ever will be in, all the time.” 

Derek hummed in understanding. “That sounds nice, though. So, why don’t you seem very sound thrilled about it?”

“It is nice, but…” Derek motioned for him to continue. “But, it’s not what I'm used to.” 

“What exactly are you used to?” 

“Some sort of challenge?” 

“Malia isn’t… ‘challenging?’”

“She is, in the fact that she is incredibly stubborn and bull headed, but that, I know how to handle.” Derek glared at him and Stiles laughed. Being compared to Malia was definitely on the very bottom of his list of things he ever wanted to happen again. “But she isn’t exactly one for meaningful, conversations, or in-depth debates.”

“Is that important?” 

“Well, yeah! It’s what makes the relationship real.” Derek didn’t respond and Stiles sighed in exasperation. “But, like I said, we are still in the beginning stages of our relationship. Maybe that stuff will come later, when we are a little more secure and comfortable around each other. Then things will be less…”

“Cupcake-y,” Derek supplied.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “that.” They both went silent, not sure what to say next. “Welp!” Stiles exclaimed, pushing himself off the counter, “I think that’ is enough talk about my relationship for the rest of forever! Wanna go watch some TV?” Derek didn’t have a chance to respond before Stiles had moved on and was freaking out again. “ _Oh my gosh!_ You haven’t seen the new _Star Wars_ movies yet! Derek, you have to see them!” Stiles grabbed him by the hand, and suddenly he was being pulled out of his chair and hauled into the living room. “Okay, so I know how you feel about the new installments of the series, but Derek, promise me you will watch these with an open mind. They aren’t episodes one through three. There are no racist undertones, the acting isn’t super forced or cheesy, and I’m pretty sure Poe and Finn are going to be a thing, so that is a major plus in my book, because I definitely ship it. You _have_ to give these moviesm a chance!”

Derek watched in amusement as Stiles ranted about why the films were worth watching and he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been to ever leave this behind. He’d never regret having helped his wolf brethren or taking down the hunters, but admittedly, he knew he could have tried harder… tried _at all_ … to make his relationship with Stiles work. Now that he was back, he knew he would do anything to fix what he had broken, and he didn’t care how long it took.

Stiles popped _The Force Awakens_ into the player and settled onto the opposite end of the couch as Derek. HeStiles, of course, talked through the entire movie, pointing out every little detail, including why the actors portrayed a scene a particular way, the hidden meanings behind the dialog, and why it was so obvious that Poe and Finn were secretly in love. 

In one specific scene between the two men, Stiles jumped across the couch and started playfully hitting Derek on the arm as he pointed at the screen. 

“See!” he shouted bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “Did you see how he lingered?! Theyat are so going to have beautiful babies one day. No one will change my mind.” 

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Stiles,” Derek retorted, but he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. 

“Dream killer,” Stiles scoffed and stuck his tongue out. 

After that, Stiles stayed sitting in the middle of the couch. He was close enough to Derek, now, that every time he shifted or turned to point something else out, their knees would bump together. Derek tried really hard not to read too much into it. They made it through episodes VII and VIII and were about half way through _Rouge One_ when Stiles scooted down on the couch and leaned his back against Derek's arm, his head just barely resting on his shoulder, and Derek had to resist the urge to wrap his arm around him like he used to. 

At some point, before the last movie ended, Stiles’ head had lulled completely back onto Derek's shoulder, and shortly after he began to quietly snore. The fondness that swelled in Derek’s chest almost couldn’t be contained. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by waking the younger man, so instead, he turned his attention back to the film and tried his best to focus on the storyline. He failed miserably, but know no-one but him needed to know that, though. 

Once the credits rolled, Derek carefully maneuvered himself off the couch, doing his best not to jostle Stiles. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered, though, because Stiles had always slept like the dead, and he didn’t even stir as Derek stood. For a moment, Derek considered grabbing him a blanket and letting him sleep on the couch, but he figured Stiles would sleep better in his own bed. So, with little effort, he picked him up and carried him to his room. Still, he showed no signs of waking. With a final glance, Derek smiled to himself and closed the door behind him. All things considered, it had been a pretty great reunion, and he was looking forward to the days to come.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

The next morning when Stiles woke in his bed, the first thing that crossed his mind was, “How the fuck did I get here?” When the answer dawned on him, first, he flushed, then he shouted in fallse annoyance, “Derek Michael Hale! Did you _seriously_ carry me to bed last night?! What am I, six?!”

Derek laughed from his seat in the kitchen. _Yeah_ , he thought, _Everything is going to work out eventually._

~*ooO0Ooo*~

When Stiles walked through the loft door, he looked exhausted and reeked of frustration. He was mumbling something about “stupid heightened senses and were-coyote anger,” which left Derek assuming something had happened between him and Malia.

“Rough day?” Derek asked.

“Don’t even get me started,” Stiles warned. 

“Well, I'm almost done cooking supper. You can tell me about it while we eat, if you want.” 

“Alright, thanks. I’m going to go take a quick shower,” he said before muttering to himself, “because apparently, I stink.”

Derek had the table set and food served by the time Stiles rejoined him in the kitchen. For the most part, they ate in silence, save for Stiles complementing Derek on the meal, but the tension radiation radiating off the younger man was palpable. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Derek offered. 

“Nope,” Stiles answered without pause.

“I see… So, you’re taking a page out of my book, then, huh? Just going to keep it to yourself and let it eat away at you?” 

“What does it matter if I talk about it or not? There is nothing you can do to fix it, so really, just let it go.” 

“Because you stink, Stiles.”

“Seriously? You, too?! Maybe if you damned shifters would stop sniffing me to find your answers, and just let me tell you things on my own time, I wouldn’t be having this issue!” Stiles snapped, pushing away from the table and leaving his food and Derek abandoned. He paced the living room, running his hands through his hair and grumbling to himself. Finally, he stopped and turned toward Derek, who was still sitting at the table, just watching him. “Malia knows you’re here, but not because I told her. Because she smelled you on me. I fully intended to tell her. Today, even. I just wanted to work up to it, but I didn’t get the chance, because the moment she got in my car, she could smell you.” 

“I take it things didn’t go well?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “No, Derek, they didn’t go well. First, she accused me of lying to her, which, okay, yeah, I did. So, she was in the right, there. But then she accused me of cheating on her because, and I quote, ‘His scent is all over you. What were you doing, rolling around together?’” Derek swallowed at the mental image. “From there, things only got worse. She asked where you were planning on living, and I didn’t want to lie to her again…”

“So, you told her I am living here?”

“Yep! And guess what? She was pissed. Not just pissed. Her eyes flashed and her claws extended. I’ve seen Malia mad, plenty. I mean, she threatens to kill people on a weekly basis, but it’s never been directed at me, like that.”

“What did you do?” Derek asked with concern.

“There wasn’t much I could do, so I just waited until she calmed down.”

“Probably for the best.” 

“Yeah, but once she had a clear head, again, she all but demanded I move in with her, and my hysterical laughter sent her into another rage.” 

“You don’t want to live with her?” 

Stiles snorted out a firm, “No.” Derek looked shocked at his reaction, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “We’ve barely been dating for four months,” Stiles explained. “I’m not even remotely ready to live with her. And, even if I was, these aren’t exactly the circumstances in which I would want to make this kind of decision. ‘Move in with me because I don’t want you living with your ex.’ Yeah, that sounds like a great reason to completely rearrange my life,” he scoffed.

“Stiles, if me living here is going to cause problems between you and Malia…” 

“No, shut up, Derek. You’re living here. Deal with it.” Derek didn’t argue. 

“Is that what you told Malia?”

“Basically.”

“Stiles,” Derek chastised. “No wonder she’s pissed.” 

“Well, she wouldn’t listen to reason. Me and her living together is a terrible idea, I can't afford to live anywhere else, at least not without a roommate, and very few people can stand my presence,” 

“You’re not that terrible,” Derek interjected. 

“so living with you is kind of an ideal situation, because we already know you can tolerate my antics, and you’re rich, so rent isn’t going to be an issue.” 

“I could still let you live here basically rent free and find somewhere else to live,” Derek added. 

“Do we seriously need to go over the ‘I’m not letting you waste your money’ argument for the millionth time? Besides, then I would feel like a pathetic charity case. At least this way I can contribute in other ways. Cooking, cleaning, you know, those kinds of things.” 

_A househusband_ Derek thought. The images that flashed through his mind nearly had him blushing. Of course, he couldn’t reveal that to Stiles. “So, what? You’re going to be my live in maid?” he asked instead.

“What?! No! Well, not exactly. I still have to go to work and I’m still going to pay you rent. Just… not a lot of it… So, to make up for it, I don’t mind doing most of the housework. Not _all_ , just most. That doesn’t mean you can be a slob, though! I’m not above putting wolfsbane in your food if you start leaving laundry all over the place or stop rinsing your dishes.”

Derek laughed and rolled his eyes. “If either of us is likely to do those things, it’s you, Stiles, not me.” 

“Maybe a few years ago, but not now,” Stiles shrugged. The statement made Derek wonder exactly how much Stiles had changed during his absence.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten extremely off topic and have worked out our living arrangements, we are still left with the issue of your girlfriend being pissed about me living here,” Derek stated matter-of-factly.

“She’s just going to have to get over it,” Stiles insisted.

“Stiles, I think you need to look at this from her perspective,” Derek tried to reason. “Wouldn’t you be a little upset if she were living with her ex?” 

“I probably wouldn’t like it,” Stiles admitted, “but I guarantee if I reacted the way she did, she would be yelling at me for days. That, or she would have kicked me to the curb claiming, I was being too possessive, or I didn’t trust her, or some crap like that. And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Trust? She may not be happy with the situation, and I understand that, but if she trusts me, it shouldn’t as big of an issue as she’s making it.”

Derek couldn’t argue with that. He had absolutely no intentions of pursuing Stiles so long as he was in a relationship, so Malia had nothing to worry about from him, and Stiles wasn’t the type to cheat on someone. If he got to that point, he would breakup with her first.

“Alright, fine,” Derek agreed. “We’ll live together, but if things between the two of you start getting out of hand, I'm moving out.” Stiles groaned in protest, but conceded when Derek crossed his arms and leveled him with an unwavering stare.

~*ooO0Ooo*~

Derek was amazed at how different Stiles was. He was still Stiles; sarcastic, spastic, a little too loud at times, and constantly moving, whether it be with wild gestures or just rapidly bouncing his leg while he worked, but he had clearly matured over the last couple of years; had really come into his own. He was no longer the disorganized, frantic, “everything is always done at the last minute,” barely-adult that he had left behind. Derek found it amazing, but part of him hated that he wasn’t around to see the transition happen.

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm, not unlike the one they once had. Derek woke up around five every morning to go for a run. By the time he returned home, Stiles was up, showered, and usually working on his second cup of coffee. Derek would go shower while Stiles reread through the articles he was editing to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Then they would eat breakfast together. Sometimes, Stiles would go all out; making eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes. Other days they would just eat cereal and a bowl of fruit. Then Stiles would go to work leaving Derek to fill his day with any number of tasks. His current project was renovating the loft on the floor above them. Stiles would return home around five in the evening, and together, he and Derek would cook supper. They talked about their day while they ate, or rather Stiles talked and Derek listened. After supper, they did dishes, and then, depending on how much work Stiles had to do, they would either go their separate ways, or they would settle in on the couch and watch TV, or Derek would read while Stiles got lost on the internet. 

It was all utterly domestic, and it left Derek with an extreme longing he couldn’t get rid of. He could smell the fondness and contentedness on Stiles, but if he felt anything else, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. 

Tuesdays were the worst day of the week. That was the day Malia came over for a stay in date night with Stiles. Usually Derek made himself scarce, either hiding in his room, or going to hang out with the other pack members, but twice Malia had insisted he say for supper. Both times had been incredibly tense and awkward. After the second time, Malia no longer tried to include Derek. He was thankful, and if the scent of relief rolling off Stiles was anything to go by, so was he. Still, even when he busied himself or made plans to get him out of the house, in the back of his mind, he always knew Stiles was with her, and it left him with a bad taste in his mouth. The worst thing though, was for the next two days Stiles wouldn’t smell right and it took everything in Derek to stop himself from scent marking the man whom he had no claim over. 

Keeping control was particularly difficult for Derek on the evenings Stiles would come home crying or when he and Malia would spend the whole night fighting. Derek wanted to pull him into his arms and just hold him until all his hurt went away. Those were the nights he would get the most work done with his renovations, forcing himself to focus on the work in front of him instead of the broken man on the floor beneath him.

Tonight was one of those nights. 

It was a Tuesday and Malia had come over earlier than usual. Her shop had a water pipe burst and she was forced to close down until the repairs could be made, leaving her with nothing to do. Stiles had still been in the middle of working when she arrived, so she tried to busy herself while she waited for him to finish his article. Derek was upstairs working on ripping out the carpet and he could hear her anxiously pacing the loft and sighing in impatience from time to time. He could smell the irritation on rolling off Stiles from where he was, so he wasn’t quite sure how Malia hadn’t noticed it, or maybe it was just that she didn’t care. 

“Hey Malia,” Derek heard Stiles call, “I’m almost done with this.” He looked down at his phone, _It only took him twenty minutes longer than it normally would have if she hadn’t been here distracting him_ he thought snarkily. “I just need to read through it for any mistakes and double check a couple of facts. Can you do me a favor?” he asked. 

“Sure.” 

“In the bottom left-hand draw of my desk is an envelope with an enclosed statement from my dad and Deputy Parrish. Can you grab it for me? I typed out their quotes from memory, but I want to make sure I remembered them correctly.” 

“Okay, yeah. I’ll me right back,” Malia confirmed. 

“Thanks,” Stiles responded. 

Derek knew something was wrong the moment he felt the familiar sensation of Stiles’ spark igniting fill the room. Normally it felt like someone lightly running their finger across your cheek, light and tingling, but this time it was like the pins and needles of your foot falling asleep, harsh and just on the side of painful. Derek used his senses to assess the situation. It became immediately clear that Malia was pissed about something. She wasn’t very good about maintaining control of her shift, and she frequently set off the built-in alarm of Stiles’ spark.

The nosy part of Derek wanted to listen in on the fight that was about to go down, but he wanted to respect Stiles’ privacy even more. The last thing he heard before he popped in his headphones was Malia snarling around a mouthful of fangs, “What the hell is this?!” and the faint rustling of papers being thrown.

Though he didn’t listen to their argument, he still stayed highly alert to their emotions. If things started to progress into dangerous waters, he wanted to make sure he could intervene. Thankfully, that didn’t happen, though there were more than a few times Malia’s rage had Derek on edge. 

Three agonizingly draining hours later, Malia left and Derek felt the relief flood through Stiles, though the sadness and confusion didn’t lessen any. With slight hesitation, Derek removed his headphones and listened to make sure Stiles was okay. He knew how the younger man hated when he listened to him cry, but if it was too bad, he didn’t care how much he protested or if he was overstepping, he was going hold Stiles until he felt better. 

Things were different, tonight, though. Instead of suffering in silence, no sooner did Derek remove his headphones, he heard Stiles whispering his name. 

“Derek? I know you’re listening, you jerk.” Derek smiled, because even though Stiles was upset, he was still as sassy as ever. “We have some things we need to talk about. Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in my room, okay?” Stiles must have been channeling his magic, because even though Derek knew he couldn’t hear or see him, he responded with a quick “okay” and a nod, and Stiles instantly replied with a hushed, “Thank you.”

~*ooO0Ooo*~

Stiles was sitting in the center of his bed, replaying everything that had just happened in his head, only being pulled back to reality when Derek knocked lightly on his door frame.

“Are you okay?” the older mad asked with concern.

“Not right now,” Stiles admitted, “but I will be.” Derek nodded but otherwise stood still. “Are you planning on talking to me the whole time from the hallway, or are you going to join me in here?” 

Other than that first night when he had carried Stiles to his bed, Derek hadn’t been in his room. He knew it was childish, but he felt like being in the other man’s room was far too intimate. 

“I… uh…” Derek stumbled.

“It’s just a room, Derek. It’s not like I’m asking you to fuck me.” Derek blanched at Stiles’ brashness, but he took a step forward regardless. “You can sit on my bed, if you want, or if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, you can use the desk chair” Stiles offered.

Stiffly, Derek sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t know why, but for some reason he felt like Stiles wanted him close. He took a moment to study Stiles’ appearance. He had clearly been crying at some point, but it appearedlooked as thoughlike he’d stopped a while ago, now he just looked exhausted. His hair was a mess from him running his fingers through it, and the ends of his sleeves were stretched out from him twisting on them in nervous habit. In his hands, he was tightly gripping a few sheets of crinkled paper.

“Did you listen to any of mine and Malia’s fight?” Stiles questioned. Derek shook his head and Stiles nodded slowly in response. With a resigned sigh, he began speaking again. “I never intended for you to read this. It was just a way for me to cope with you being gone. I’m not even sure why I kept it, to be honest, let alone in a place where anyone could stumble across it… which is exactly what happened.” 

“What are you talking about, Stiles?” Derek asked, eyeing the papers nervously. 

“About six months back, shortly before Malia and I started dating, I wrote you a letter. It was something Lydia suggested I do to help me move on.” 

Derek’s brain short circuited. Did Stiles say he did this six months ago? To help him move on? That means… “Stiles, did you wait two years for me to come back?” 

“Yeah, Derek, I did. But that’s not important right now.” 

“To hell it isn’t. Stiles, are you kidding me?!” 

“Focus, Derek!” Stiles snapped. “If you want to talk about that, fine. We will. Afterwards.” 

“After what?” Derek growled, his emotions getting the better of him.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before you got distracted! Now listen!” Stiles ordered with a huff of frustration. “Like I said, I wrote you this letter… It… it has some really personal stuff in it. I really should have gotten rid of it, shredded it, but I didn’t, and tonight, Malia found it.” 

“Okay?” 

“Just…. Here. Read it.” Stiles handed the papers to Derek and looked to the floor.

Derek read the letter. He looked to Stiles who was now cautiously watching him, and then he read it again, making sure he didn’t miss any detail. Once he finished, he just stared at the papers in his hands, not knowing how to respond.

“I don’t blame her for being pissed,” Stiles confessed. Derek shook his head. “I know you know we’ve been fighting.” Derek nodded. “It’s not always about you, but it is most of the time. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry about it or feel like you had to move out.” Derek grunted. “Usually she’s just pissed because I smell so much like you. She thinks we’re messing around or something, but I always reassure her that we aren’t and tell her that she needs to trust me because there is nothing going on between you and me.” 

“And then she found this letter,” Derek spoke with a hoarse voice.

“Mmhmm.” 

“And now she doesn’t believe you.” 

“She didn’t at first, but I think I finally talked her down. Well, she at least doesn’t believe that I’m physically cheating on her. But emotionally…” 

“Did you guys break up?” 

“No…” 

“Then why are you telling me this?” Derek growled again. 

“Because you need to know why Malia and I were fighting. You were going to ask anyway, and there was no way I was going to be able to hide it from you. Not this time.” 

“Well, are you?” 

“Am I what?” 

“Are you emotionally cheating on her?” 

“I don’t know, Derek. Maybe? Probably? But not on purpose.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Derek asked standing up and turning so he could face Stiles. 

“It means I would never intentionally do anything to hurt either of you. I really like Malia, and when we aren’t fighting, dating her is fun.” 

“But you don’t love her.” 

“No.” 

“And you love me.” Stiles didn’t respond. “Stiles, _do you love me?_ ” Derek demanded. 

“Of course, I love you, Derek!” Stiles exclaimed in annoyance. “I’ve always loved you, you idiot. But that doesn’t matter!” 

“How _doesn’t_ that matter?” 

“Because you left! You left and it nearly killed me, and I can’t do it again. I can’t be with you and risk losing myself again. I _can't_ do it again. I won't survive.” 

“So, you’re just going to stay with her?” Stiles remined silent. “God, Stiles… You call me an idiot, but maybe you should look in a mirror.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Stiles snapped.

“It means you deserve more, Stiles! You deserve someone who is going to treat you better! Someone who is going to worship you, and challenge you, and be your equal. _Not_ someone like Malia who constantly takes you for granted and treats you like shit. How many nights a week do you come home crying because the two of you got in yet another fight? How many tears have you wasted on her?”

“Oh, and what? You think you’re that person?” 

“I could be, if you’d let me.” Stiles scoffed. “What?” Derek asked in clear irritation. 

“You think Malia takes me for granted. She isn’t the one who left me, Derek. _You_ are. You think I'm wasting my crying on Malia, but what about you? I basically cried myself to sleep for two straight years because of you, not to mention all the panic attacks and the utter numbness that swallowed me whole. What Malia is putting me through is nothing… _**nothing!**_ compared to what you put me through. So, who are you to talk?” 

“You’re right, Stiles. What I did to you was terrible, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I’m also going to spend the rest of my life trying to correct it. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that Malia is the one you are meant to be with, because she’s not. And you can deny it all you want, but I see it on your face when you say she’s the one you want. Maybe I’m not the person for you either. I don’t know. What I do know is, I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again. I need you to believe that, Stiles. I will _never_ leave again. Not without you. And if you let me, I’ll give you all the love you’ve been missing. I would find a way to stop time for you if you asked me to. Stiles, I’d do anything for you.” 

Derek could tell Stiles was battling with himself and he didn’t have the patience to wait for him to finish. “Don’t try and make a decision tonight. You’ve been through a lot. Just take your time and make a choice when it’s right for you. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not changing my mind. God, just to wake up with you would be… You’re everything I need, Stiles, and if you end up choosing me, it would be so different. You just tell me what you want me to do and I promise, I won’t let you down. Never again.” Derek made his way to the door, but before leaving he turned back and added, “And even if you decide you don’t want to be with me, but you still want to leave this wrong situation that you're in, I’ll be there for you. You won't have to do it alone.” 

Stiles mouth was incredibly dry, but he kept trying, and failing, to swallow around the lump in his throat. Derek had laid everything on the line and Stiles didn’t know what to do. He felt overwhelmed and totally blindsided by the declaration. None of this had been the reaction he was expecting upon showing Derek the letter he’d written. Maybe some apologies, an, “I could never hate you, Stiles,” or a “Do you still feel this way?” But Derek had basically just proposed to him, and he was too shocked and confused to respond. He loved Derek, there was no doubt about that, but even with his promise, Stiles wasn’t sure if he could risk being hurt by him again. 

When he finally came back to his senses, Derek was leaving his room with one final promise. One that took him completely by surprise.

“Thanks,” he whispered to Derek’s disappearing figure.

Once again, Derek turned back to face Stiles and flashed him a smile that left him breathless. “Of course,” he said, and then he was gone.

Stiles stared at the empty hallway for a while. He wasn’t entirely sure of what just happened, but he knew he had a lot to think about. Not now, though. Now, he was going to do his best to clear his mind and try to sleep, because even though it was only seven in the evening, he was exhausted.

By some miracle, sleep took him quickly. For the first time in several months, he dreamed of blue-green eyes accompanied with expressive eyebrows, a well-groomed, dark beard with hair to match, and a bright white smile with adorable bunny teeth. He heard the rumbling of a deep, genuine, belly laugh, and could feel calloused hands running over his neck and sides. The smell of leather, the forest, and sandalwood beard oil enveloped him. He was back in his happy place. 

Suddenly, he was pulled from his dream to the sound of knocking on his door.

“Huh? What? Derek?” he stammered in a half-asleep daze.

“Uh… yeah. Sorry to wake you, but I knew you went to sleep without eating supper, and your stomach was growling. I was worried you might be hungry and didn’t want you to wake up to no food, so I went and got us some _Taco Bell_. I just wanted to let you know it’s here if you want it.” 

“Oh… Um… Thanks.” 

Derek nodded and went back downstairs. 

_He… he went and bought me food because he was worried I would wake up hungry. Who does that? Derek, that’s who._

In that moment, Stiles’ decision was made, it would just take him a while to realize it.

With a long stretch and a yawn, Stiles rolled out of bed and joined Derek in the living room where he had the food laid out. Stiles snatched the steak quesadilla, that he knew was his, off the table and plopped down on the couch right next to Derek who was enjoying a crunchwrap. Neither one of them said anything about what had happened earlier, they just enjoyed each other’s company while watching the latest episode of _Doctor Who_. 

“I think Jodi is doing a great job,” Stiles commented around a mouthful of quesadilla.

“She’s no Tom Baker, but she isn’t terrible,” Derek added. Stiles just rolled his eyes. He cwould tell Derek loved the female Doctor, but he would always be reluctant to admit so, being a true fan of the classic seasons. 

At some point, after the food was long gone, _Doctor Who_ had finished, and they had settled on watching _Game of Thrones_ , Stiles had gotten tired again. Without even thinking about it, he shimmied down and rested his head on Derek’s thigh, using the man as a pillow. Instinctively, Derek’s hand came up to rest on Stiles’ waist.

It felt perfect and natural and _right_ and it left Stiles feeling guilty, but he never wanted it to stop. That’s when he realized that he and Malia needed to have another talk, and he had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to go well.


	5. Three Empty Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't keep pretending like he and Malia can make things work.

Stiles remembered the first time Malia told him she loved him. It had caught him completely off guard. They’d only been dating a month, and he thought it was way too soon, but Malia was staring at him expectantly and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he said it back. From that point forward, anytime she would tell him she loved him, he automatically responded with a, “You, too,” but he never actually said the word, “love.” When he tried, it would get caught in the back of his throat, like his body was physically rejecting the lie. 

He wasn’t’s not sure if Malia ever picked up on it, but he knew others had. Scott had called him out on it on several occasions saying, “Dude, that’s not cool to make her think you have feelings for her when you don’t.” But Stiles ignored him, not because he thought he was wrong, but because he was hoping with time he would actually mean it. His dad always gave him a knowing look when he’d say it, and even Derek noticed, though he was very rarely around them. 

For six months, Stiles had been leading Malia on, making her think his feelings for her were more than they actually were; allowing her to believe they were more than they ever _could_ be. But, to be fair, he had deluded himself into believing his own lie. In the beginning, it really wasn’t an issue, but the longer they were together, the more Malia’s feelings for him had grown, while his remained the same. 

To say Derek’s presence in their lives is what caused their problems was unfair. Their issues had started long before he returned, but that didn’t stop Malia from blaming him. So, she tried inserting herself in Stiles’ life even more, assuming if she was around him more than Derek, it would help fix whatever was broken between them, but all it did was make Stiles grow tired of her. She insisted on talking every day, and Stiles, of all people, quickly ran out of things to say, so Malia would rehash past conversations or complain about how he wasn’t engaging with her. 

They were just going through the motions, and Stiles realized that now. They had been hanging on to a relationship that was always doomed to fail, regardless of Derek's return, and that was Stiles’ fault. He owned that. He never should have entered into a relationship that he knew his heart could never be in. 

So, here he was, picking her up at the same time, in front of the same old building, in the same parking spot as always. It felt like a normal day, but he knew better. Malia climbed into the passenger seat and asked him how his day had been. Stiles knew she didn’t care much about his work, just as he found her job incredibly tedious; it was just a way for them to fill the awkward space. When they, once again, had nothing more to say, Malia plugged the auxiliary cord into her phone and opened the playlist they had made of all their favorite songs. Tentatively, she took his hand in hers and gave it a light squeeze, attempting to alight some emotion from him, but he had none to give. At the next turn, he pulled his hand away and kept it firmly grasped on the steering wheel. 

Finally, they arrived at Malia’s house, but Stiles made no move to exit his Jeep.

“Stiles?” Malia called in confusion. “Are you coming?” 

Stiles tried to swallow, but his mouth felt like a desert. He unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth and cleared his throat as he shook his head. “N-no. No, I’m not,” he stammered.

“Oohkaay?” Malia drawled.

“I have some things to say, and I think I’ll lose my nerve if I go inside. So, it’s probably best if we stay out here.”

“Stiles, what’s going on? You’re acting really strange, and you’ve smelled off since you picked me up,” Malia questioned. “Can you at least get out of the car and talk to me.” Stiles agreed, but he kept his distance from her, as she stood on the sidewalk with her arms crossed over her chest, and he stayed in the street with his hand resting on the hood of his jeep. “Alright. Say what you need to say,” she ordered defensively. 

“Malia… I can’t keep doing this,” Stiles admitted.

“What are you talking about?”

“This,” he reiterated, gesturing between them. “Us. This relationship. It just isn’t working anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

“This is because of Derek, isn’t it,” she accused with a snarl.

“What? No! This has nothing to do with Derek.” 

“Stop lying, Stiles! All of our problems started when he got here, and you know it. It’s because you’re still in love with him.” 

“I don’t know what I feel for Derek, and you can’t keep blaming him for our problems. They started way before he came home. His presence was just accelerated the timeline we were already on and brought to light issues we had been ignoring. So, stop using him as a scapegoat.”

“If it’s not him, then what is it, Stiles? Explain it to me.”

“It’s me, Malia. I’ve been deluding myself into thinking I could make this work. And can you really say _you_ want to be with _me_? It might be easier to stay together, but after finding that letter, things will never be the same between us. You’re never going to fully trust me again, and I’m always going to feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you. So yeah, we could stay together for the sake of staying together, but if something doesn’t change, and it’s not likely to, we’re going to keep sinking further until we can’t dig our way out.”

Malia knew he was right. Stiles could see it on her face, but she wasn’t ready to give up. “But Stiles, I lo-“

“Don’t,” he stopped her. “Don’t say you love me. Don’t say that because you think it will make me stay. It won’t. It’ll only make it worse. Gah, I can’t keep hearing them; I can’t even _say_ them! Those three empty words… That’s all they’ve ever been; nothing more than a hollow lie used as a temporary fix for a relationship that was over before it even began.” 

“Stop,” Malia whispered. “Stop talking. Stop treating me like I’m one of your readers. I don’t need the metaphors and adjectives to keep me entertained.” Stiles laughed, truly amused. “What?” Malia asked exasperatedly. “What’s so funny.”

“No, no. Sorry. No. I know it’s not funny. It’s just, don’t you get it? Don’t you understand that’s _exactly_ why we never would have lasted. Because I wasn’t trying to treat you like one of my readers, that’s just the way I talk. I’m constantly using metaphors, and going off on excruciatingly detailed tangents. It’s how my brain works, and that annoys you.” Malia didn’t respond and Stiles sighed in reservation. “Malia, you deserve someone who can actually love you, and I’m sorry, but that isn’t me.”

“You know what? I’m not even upset. I thought I would be, but I’ve known this was coming for months. It’s not even worth fighting for, anymore.” With one last glance and a disappointed shake of her head, she turned on her heals, stomped into her house, and slammed the door behind her.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would,” Stiles said to himself as he climbed back into his Jeep and headed home. 

Even though it hurt, Stiles knew he had done the right thing by ending his relationship with Malia. He had been living in a fantasy world for the past several months, and it was time for him to get back to reality and get his house in order. He wasn’t sure what all that would entail, but he knew this had been the first step, and hopefully it would only get easier from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter to go! I will have it posted tomorrow between 12pm and 1pm EST!


	6. Ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been six months since Stiles and Malia broke up, and Derek can't take it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I wasn't posting this last chapter until around noon, but I'm too excited, and I have zero patience. So, here it is!!

_Six months_. 

It had been six months since Stiles had broken up with Malia, and Derek felt like he was going insane. Upon hearing the news, he did his best to hide the joy he felt and express his sympathies. If the unamused look on Stiles’ face was anything to go by, he had failed miserably, but he couldn’t say he really cared. After that, their days continued much the same, though Stiles seemed lighter in spirits; happier than he had been since Derek had returned, and long before. He heard Sheriff Stilinski, Scott, and Lydia alike all comment on how this was the happiest they had seen him in years. It was nice, and it had a positive effect on everyone around him. Everyone, except for Derek, it seemed. That isn’t to say he wasn’t glad for Stiles and his new-found contentment. Of course, he was. But, he was also extremely confused. 

He’d assumed, which had probably been wrong on his part, once Stiles and Malia broke up, things between the two of them would rekindle. Maybe not right away; he understood Stiles needed some time after ending one relationship before starting, or rather, restarting, another. So, he tried to give the younger man space. But it appeared that wasn’t what Stiles needed. He was constantly inserting himself into Derek’s personal space; leaning against him while they watched tv, linking their arms together when they went for walks, finding any excuse to touch his shoulders, arms, thighs, and back. Not that Derek minded… at first. But then, months passed and nothing between them had changed, leaving him in this awkward limbo of a “not-relationship”. It was driving him mad, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

He quickly found out, and the answer was _not much at all_.

They were making supper together, like they did most nights, and Stiles was being particularly physical. He’d ran his hand over Derek’s arm on three separate occasions, touched his hip in passing to let him know he was behind him, and was currently resting his hand on the small of his back as he leaned over his shoulder to examine Derek’s work.

“Stiles,” he gritted through clinched teeth, struggling to maintain control, “please, stop touching me,” he practically begged. 

Stiles immediately backed away, bumping into the counter behind him. He reeked of confusion, embarrassment, and shame.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “I, uh… I didn’t realize it bothered you.” 

Derek leaned over the counter in self-frustration, his hands gripping the cool granite, shoulders hunched, and head hanging low between them. “Well, it does,” he sighed, and he felt Stiles recoil behind him, “but not for the reason you're thinking. It bothers me because it’s not enough.”

“Oh? Um…” Stiles gulped.

Derek turned so they were facing each other and could now see the apprehension on Stiles’ face. There was so much he wanted to say to the younger man, but he was having trouble putting his thoughts in order.

“God, you drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” he professed.

“I’m sorry…? I don’t mean…”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

“Drive you crazy, apparently,” Stiles muttered, but Derek continued as if he’d said nothing.

“I didn’t say anything when I first got back because I thought you were happy with Malia, and I didn’t want to ruin that. But then you showed me that letter, and you broke things off with her, and I thought, maybe… But still, I didn’t push it because I saw how hard you were working to better yourself, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.” 

“You wouldn’t have gotten in the way…” Stiles whispered, causing Derek to pause and stare at him in disbelief. Stiles watched his reaction with curious eyes.

“I didn’t want you to rush into anything you weren’t ready for, especially after just ending a relationship,” he added once he’d regained his composure. “When you didn’t say anything to the contrary, I thought maybe you needed some space. I was clearly wrong about that, though, because the more I tried to distance myself from you, the closer you seemed to get. Eventually, I stopped fighting it, but then time kept passing and still, you made no attempt to change our relationship. That didn’t stop you from constantly inserting yourself into my space, though, did it?” Stiles didn’t reply. “Do you think about me at all, Stiles? Does it ever cross your mind what kind of effect you have on me? When you touch me… I told you how I felt, so you have to know what you’re doing to me,” Derek lamented. 

“That… that wasn’t my intention…. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, or cause you distress. I just…” Stiles trailed off.

“You just what?” 

“I don’t know… I guess I fell into old habits…”

“From when we were together.” Stiles nodded. “But we aren’t together, Stiles. I told you I wanted to be, but it’s up to you to make that decision. I’m… I’m completely in love with you, and if you feel the same way, I need you to tell me, because I…” 

“I was scared,” Stiles interrupted. 

Derek had to take a moment to process what Stiles had said. “You _were_ scared?” Stiles nodded again in confirmation. “But you aren’t anymore?” He shook his head. “Were you planning on telling me?” Derek questioned in bewilderment.

“Tonight,” Stiles replied. “After dinner.” 

Derek took two steps forward, so he was standing directly in front of Stiles. Hesitantly, he ran his hand from his shoulder and down his arm, causing goosebumps to raise on his skin. 

“What exactly were you going to tell me? Just that you aren’t scared anymore?” 

“I… I.. umm…” Stiles stammered. His focus clouded by how close Derek now was. “I was going to tell you I was… I was scared… because when you left, I forgot how to… how to live. Could you maybe stop doing that?” he whimpered with a squeak, looking down at where Derek was still stroking his arm. “It’s incredibly distracting.” Derek smirked and laughed a little, but complied. “Thanks,” he breathed, before continuing. “I was going to tell you I was scared because I have finally found myself and I’m afraid of disappearing again. But, over the past couple of months, being with you… not _being_ with you, but being around you like this… It’s all been so…

“Domestic?” Derek provided.

“Yeah. And it helped me I realize something.” 

“What,” Derek implored, growing more impatient by the second.

“I realized that needing someone in your life doesn’t mean you have to lose yourself in them. And god, Derek, I need you.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely, yes. Now, would you please kiss me already? Because I’ve been …” 

Whatever Stiles was about to say was lost in a hum of delight once Derek’s lips connected with his own, followed by a sigh of contentment. They hadn’t kissed in three years, but their time apart appeared to have no effect on their muscle memory, each of them knowing exactly how they fit with the other, though the thrill of the situation made it feel like their first time.

Stiles was the first to pull away, not because he was ready to be done, but because he could no longer suppress his giddiness. He rested his head on Derek's shoulder and a bubble of laughter escaped his lips. He looked back up at the man who was watching him with affectionate eyes.

“Hi,” Stiles grinned. He _didn’t_ giggle, okay?

“Hi,” Derek responded with a smile of his own.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” 

“As long as I’ve wanted to do that?” Derek retorted. 

“Probably,” Stiles admitted. 

“I don’t intend on stopping there, either,” Derek murmured against his neck before running his tongue across Stiles’ pulse point and biting lightly. “I’ve been holding back for months, but I can’t anymore. I need to mark you, make you smell like me, make you realized I am the only one for you.”

“God, yes. Please. All of that. I need all of that… _right now_.” Stiles bared his throat and Derek growled as he relinquished control to his wolf. “Mark me, Derek. Claim me. I want everyone to know that I’m yours. Only yours, just like I’ve always been,” he rasped as Derek littered his skin with love bites. 

“You weren’t only mine, though, were you?” Derek snarled at the thought. “ _She_ touched you. I need to make you forget how she felt.” 

Stiles stilled. Forcefully, he grabbed Derek’s face and made the man look at him. “No, Derek, she didn’t,” he assured. “Don’t you think I would have smelled more like her if she had?”

“What?” Derek asked in shock.

“Malia and I never… We barely even kissed. It’s one of the many reasons she and I used to fight. She wanted to be more intimate, but I wasn’t interested. I told her it was because I wanted to take things slowly, but that wasn’t the truth.”

“What _is_ the truth?” 

“I still belonged to someone else, and the thought of doing anything with her felt like a betrayal.”

“She never touched you?” 

“Nope.” 

A whole new kind of possessiveness surged through Derek. When he thought Stiles and Malia had been together, the wolf in him wanted to reclaim him as his territory, that way everyone would know he belonged to him and no one else. While, he still very much wanted to do that, this new knowledge that Stiles had _only ever_ been his, intensified that desire.

“Derek, are you alright? You’re starting to shift,” Stiles asked in concern. 

“I need you. Right now. Or I’m going to completely lose control.” 

“Your bed, or mine?” Stiles offered. 

“Mine.” 

Stiles didn’t hesitate, and Derek was right on his tail, both of them stripping their clothes off as they went. Stiles erupted into laughter when Derek tackled him to the bed, but it quickly turned to moans of pleasure as the wolf began running his hands all over his body. It took no time at all for him to remember why he had mourned this loss. Derek always made him feel cared for, valued, and loved. He treated him as though he were the most precious being in the universe and made him forget about all his insecurities, because in Derek’s eyes, he was perfect. Stiles only hoped he made Derek feel the same. 

The two of them took their time reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies, letting their hands and mouths roam slowly and with purpose. When Derek entered him, he felt so full, so complete, that he almost immediately reached his climax. This didn’t deter the wolf, though, it only encouraged him. He brought Stiles to completion three times before he finally took pity on his lover. 

“Tell me I’m the only one for you,” Derek commanded as he relentlessly snapped his hips forward, his own orgasm approaching quickly.

“You’re the only one for me,” Stiles wailed in blissful over stimulation. “I’m yours. Only yours, Derek. God, please! Please, I need you to finish! Mark me as yours. Please!” he begged.

A few more thrusts, and Derek obeyed. 

“That,” Stiles huffed with his arm resting over his eyes. “was the best sex I’ve had in three years.” Derek laughed that genuine, full belly, laugh that Stiles had missed so much, and it made his heart swell.

“It’s the only sex you’ve had in three years,” he chuckled.

“Excuse you, I think you owe my hand an apology,” Stiles said in mock offense.

“Oh, my bad, how could I forget about your hand?” Derek retorted.

“I don’t know. It’s always done right by you.” 

Derek laughed again and smiled fondly at Stiles. “I forgot how easy this was. Being with you. Loving you. I’ve missed it.” 

“Me too,” Stiles beamed and planted a sloppy and exaggerated kiss right on Derek’s lips. Just then, a loud rumble filled the room and Stiles stared down at his stomach in horror. “We forgot about supper!” he shouted in distress. 

“Seriously, Stiles? How can you be hungry right now?” 

“You just fucked me within an inch of my life, Derek. How are you _not_ hungry?!” 

“Touché... Well, if that’s the case, I doubt you’ll survive if we actually have to cook.” 

“Take out it is!!” Stiles declared excitedly, climbing out of bed to go grab the menus. “Oh, and Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't decided yet, but I may be adding an epilogue to this at some point. It's a strong possibility. But, this is it for now. Thank you so much for sticking with me until the end! I absolutely love all of you! Every hit, every kudos, every comment only encourages me to continue writing. So, really, thank you. Without all of you, this fic wouldn't exist!

**Author's Note:**

> You made it! Thanks for reading!  
> Please, please, _please_ leave comments! I live to read them! Tell me what you liked, what you hated, if I messed something up. Anything, I don't care! I just love hearing from my readers!  
>  And, of course, a kudos is always appreciated ♥


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